


What Lies Dormant

by MulticoloredRose



Series: Into Darkness, Unafraid [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alaren Lavellan, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Developing Friendships, Gen, Mages and Templars, POV Solas, References to Trespasser DLC, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 20:57:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16794613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MulticoloredRose/pseuds/MulticoloredRose
Summary: Solas had well earned biases in place against the elf they called the 'Herald' after interacting with his fair share of these 'Dalish Elves', but very quickly he comes to realize that those biases might have no ground in reality.





	What Lies Dormant

**Author's Note:**

> Just a note for this story/universe.  
> I never liked the idea that you can't side with both the Templars and the Mages, and so a massive change that exists here is that that's been thrown to the wayside. The Inquisition manages to secure an alliance with both sides. (That does mean in later segments Corypheus will have both Calpernia and Samson because to me there were a lot more pockets of mages and templars than just at T.Redoubt and Redcliffe, so both sides have both sides on their side.)

**_"Sometimes to achieve the world one desires, one must take regrettable measures."_ **

**_-Solas_ **

One of the first things that Solas has had to admit to himself is that the Herald is not like the other Dalish that he’s had the utter misfortune to meet. Dalish elves wander these lands like stubborn children looking nothing like the true heritage that they claim they hold to and yet they demand that the world acknowledge them in their foolish fumbling as being equal or better than the giants that came before them.

It’s insulting, it’s disgusting and it’s made Solas look down upon them with an always present sneer on his face ever since he awoke in this time.

‘True elves’ they have the gall to call themselves. Blind arrogance when there is absolutely nothing beside pointed ears that is recognizable between the two groups.

So to say that Alaren Lavellan, the mythical heaven sent ‘Herald of Andraste’, is a confusing puzzle in light of what Solas knows about his people would be a monumental understatement. When Solas had first traced the massive use of his Orb to the Conclave and heard that someone – an elf – had managed to stumble out of the Fade somehow and survive, he knew he had to lend his assistance.

If Corypheus had used the Orb to tear the Veil that Solas had made once upon a time, then they were going to need a miracle to handle the situation. Corypheus was like a rabid dog with a dangerous weapon, he didn’t know how to use it correctly but he knew that it worked. The damage that he could potentially do could completely destroy this world long before Solas had a chance to properly restore the elves of old.

He had expected certain things of the raven-haired elf when he first saw him. An elf sent to the Conclave by Clan Lavellan in an attempt to keep a finger on the pulse of what was happening in the ‘shem’ world. He had built himself up and solidified his mask long before Alaren’s eyes opened and Cassandra whisked them all away to attempt to seal the breach.

It doesn’t work of course, not that Solas expected it to. Alaren Lavellan may be a mage, but the mark has been leaching his strength subtly over Solas’s time healing him and most of the young mage’s energy goes into maintaining the foreign magic clashing within his own body.

Solas’s magic will win in the end. It’s just a simple fact. The magics of this time have been so watered down and so much of it has been lost due to the human’s and their Chantry’s interference that any hope of saving the young elf is non-existent. The mark will kill him. It’s already doing so.

He hides it well though, signing onto the Inquisition in hopes of closing as many veils as he possibly can. It’s a noble desire, and a lot less selfish than Solas would have figured a Dalish would be, but that quickly rights itself when he realizes that Alaren is probably only willing to do this because the breaches affect his people as well.

Solas knows that he had a plan. Stay in the background, stay unliked, stay hidden and underestimated through this time as he put these people to work restoring his Orb to him and letting him fully regain the majority of the magic that he lost during his long sleep. That had been the plan.

But he hadn’t considered the young Herald to seek him out. Endlessly curious about where Solas has come from and what Solas has done or learned over the years. Alaren looks at Solas like Solas is fascinating and amazing, and Solas isn’t sure why but the elf’s calm yet sincere nature seems to whittle away at the walls he intended to build and maintain.

Alaren isn’t like the other Dalish that Solas has met. He seems completely unconcerned about preaching the ‘superiority’ of the free elves with their self-imposed slave markings, the same slave markings which are curiously absent from his face. He’s different in ways that Solas can’t quite fully put his finger on. He’s even gone so far as to ask an outsider for information on his own kind.

_“You are Dalish are you not?” Solas throws out at him and Alaren inclines his head slightly in agreeance._

_“I am descended from the elves that refused to be cowed at the Dales, yes.” He says like he’s said it hundreds of times. Solas figures maybe he has, so many would take him for a city elf like they take Solas since he doesn’t have the ‘old gods’ markings on his face._

_“Your Keeper got that right at least, we should plant a tree.” Solas mocks and Alaren doesn’t rise to the baiting like the Dalish are prone to do when anyone speaks ill of them. “It’s disgraceful, what has become of the Dalish.”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_“I’ve seen the history that they claim to imitate.”_

_“In the Fade?” Alaren asks for clarification and Solas nods._

_“Yes.”_

_“That sounds amazing. I am curious I guess if you’ve ever thought of sharing that information with them? Of sharing that history?”_

_“Oh, I tried once.” Solas sneers. “It didn’t end well.”_

_“I’m sorry Hahren.” Alaren says with absolute sincerity. He takes one step forward towards Solas with an apologetic air about him. “If the Dalish have done you a disservice, I would wish to make that right.” It sounds like a promise and it unsettles Solas. He expected a different response, he’s become used to a different response._

~+~

In then end, Solas’s plans come crashing down one by one.

Alaren seems to find some kind of solace in tracking Solas down in-between rift closings. The young Herald continues to surprise him with all the questions that he has stored inside of him. Questions about the Fade, questions about the things that Solas has seen in it. Questions about the future and what Solas foresees himself doing once this whole Inquisition thing is finished.

_“Perhaps you could come back with me when I go home.” Alaren says, his voice softly slurred as the exhaustion from the day finally starts to take him. He’s been being stubborn this whole time, making sure to do the rounds and keep his finger on the pulse of what’s happening with the Inquisition. It’s impressive and he’ll need all that stubbornness and strength in the days to come – but the offer hurts when Alaren says it. For the first time, it hurts to know that the clock is ticking down. They shouldn’t be making plans for ‘after’. There won’t be an ‘after’ for him._

_“To Clan Lavellan? I don’t think they’d accept me.” Solas says gently, watching as Alaren relaxes more into his chair and his eyes fall closed._

_“I think we might surprise you.” Alaren mumbles and Solas waits a few minutes before he gets up and drapes a blanket over the sleeping elf._

_“You already have.” Solas tells him. “And for what it’s worth…I’m so sorry.”_

He stops avoiding the young elf after that, usually being one of the party members that Alaren asks to accompany him over the Hinterlands as they seek to restore the weakened and ripped Veil. There are several times that Solas wonders if he’s misjudged the Dalish during their travels as he watches the other, if it’s possible that he’s only seen the worst of what they have to offer. Alaren is more what Solas had hoped for when he sought to free the elves from themselves. He’s every bit the future that Solas saw for them, hoped for them when he stood against the others. Kind, curious, compassionate and intelligent, completely at ease with himself and the world around him.

And he’s going to die. All of Solas’s old hopes and Solas has killed him. It’s starting to become a sad habit of his, destroying things he cares about by accident or design.

_“You look like you’re miserable my friend.” Alaren says with humor running through his voice as Solas makes a face at the taste of the tea. “Why do you drink it if it displeases you so?”_

_“It helps with my dreams and my travels into the Fade.” Solas says honestly. “I just wish it didn’t taste so bad.”_

_“Are there no other alternatives you could take instead? I know that there are many roots that give assistance to magics of the mind.” Alaren offers and Solas looks down at the cooling cup of tea with a sigh, rolling the liquid around the cup._

_“This one is the only one that I’ve been able to track down in this area.” He says. “So unfortunately, I must endure.” Alaren smiles a little at the overdramatic statement._

_The package that he finds in his room later with the small note in the Herald’s handwriting of ‘Hopefully one of these will taste better my friend’ brings a smile to his face and an even deeper feeling of guilt into his chest._

~+~

If Solas believed in anything divine or in the handiwork of a deity, he would understand why they would have chosen Alaren Lavellan to be their herald or their savior.

There isn’t a place in the young elf’s heart for ignoring those who need assistance, even when potentially bigger issues might be at hand. Solas just watches as they move on from one problem to the next, from gathering supplies to make sure that people will be taken care of, fed and warm in Inquisition camps to setting up guard posts and watchtowers to give as much early warning as they possibly can to the exhausted middle people in this Mage-Templar war.

He doesn’t complain either, even when he should. When they press on too soon. Solas knows how tired he must be, how much the mark must be hurting him but he gives little to no indication of it as they climb mountains and fight bandits and thieves.

_The second breach they stumble upon barely hours after the last sealing is an unwelcome sight. It’s uncommon for them to find two within the same week, let alone mere hours apart. Solas bites the inside of his cheek as Alaren digs deep into that well of stubbornness and forces the frayed edges of the Veil closed with his own force of will._

_He stumbles for the first time that day, almost falling to his knees but Solas is there to brace him in time and Alaren reaches out easily to accept his assistance in order to hide his weakness from the others who aren’t paying as close of attention as they should._

_“You cannot keep doing this.” Solas says when the others have left the tent and he’s done what he can to ease the mark on the other elf’s hand. “It’s taking too much of you.” Alaren remains silent for a few moments, his normally light skin paler than usual as he just looks at the glowing green magic that will be the end of him._

_“Can I admit something to you?” Alaren asks and Solas nods, coming over and taking a seat next to him. “Sometimes…sometimes I wish I didn’t have to.” He confesses in the softest of voices and that sits between them for a few moments before he continues. “But I am the only one who can do this, and it has to be done…” He looks up at Solas with a smile that’s clearly meant to be slightly playful but comes across as sad. “So, I guess I must endure.”_

~+~

The return from Redcliffe is a muted affair. Solas watches as whole groups of mages are brought down from Redcliffe and out from under their promise to the Tevinter Imperium into a partnership with the Inquisition.

It’s clear something has gone wrong, very wrong by the exhaustion and the darkness in the young Herald’s eyes when Solas sees him. The mission was supposed to be pretty straight-forward, with the Altus mage that Solas doesn’t trust in the slightest helping Cullen’s soldiers into the building through the tunnels that Leliana has made them aware of. The Iron Bull and Cassandra were to be at the Herald’s side, protecting him and lending their strength should Alexius’s betrayal come to fruition before Dorian and the soldiers could reach them.

Solas almost wishes that he had gone with them, since he was not tapped to be part of Cullen’s group to go attempt to meet up with a Barrows up at the Templar order. Madame Vivienne and Blackwall had been chosen to be the ex-Knight Commander’s entourage during that little set up. Cullen had returned with good news, Josephine’s nobles and Blackwall’s warden presence had opened up the possibility to talks with the Inquisition. Alaren himself needed to head down there though and speak with the Lord Seeker to solidify the deal.

Cullen wanted to leave immediately, and as always Alaren had not objected even though it was clear as day that something was bothering him. His steps were slower, his posture not as contained as he made his rounds to greet the newcomers and to put those who felt uncomfortable with the sudden influx of mages at ease. The sad thing is that no one seems to realize the lack of luster in the Herald’s body language or behavior. They’re all still blinded by the show that he’s putting on for them, and they’re content to continue going on that way.

_“Da’len” Solas calls out softly when he enters Alaren’s room to see the young mage packing for the trip to see the Templars. For the first time in their acquaintance, Alaren doesn’t turn around to greet him, doesn’t offer him a smile and a curious inquiry as to what has brought him here. Instead, the elf’s shoulders seem to tense even more and he looks like he’ll shatter if Solas so much as even touches him. “Are you alright?” Solas asks and there’s a moment of pause before Alaren slowly shakes his head._

_“No…not at all.” His voice breaks slightly and Solas comes over to assist. It’s the first time in a long time that someone has turned to him for comfort when Alaren practically shakes apart and silent tears run down his face as he explains everything they saw and everything that Dorian and him experienced in the future that never was. It’s horrible and sickening to know what the worst-case scenario of Solas’s mistake is._

_“You need rest.” Solas says after it all and after the other calms down a bit and Alaren nods._

_“I’ll see about asking Cassandra to take a wagon. I’ll rest in the back.” He says and Solas sits up straighter._

_“You finish up here, I’ll see to the travel arrangements.” Solas assures him and Alaren gives him a small but genuine smile._

_“Thank you, my friend.”_

~+~

The entire trip up to the Templar stronghold is filled with questions and concerns. Why have they retreated to Therinfal Redoubt? Why have they refused the Chantry again after supposedly returning to it as expressed in Val Royeux?

Josephine has coached the entire team through possible scenarios that might occur with so many of the Orleasian nobility surrounding them, and while it may have fallen on deaf ears when it comes to Sera and Solas, everyone is impressed by the young Herald and his maturity and tact when dealing with their new allies.

He keeps Vivienne next to him for most of this mission, relenting to the female mage’s orders and suggestions without any arguments. It’s a good choice. Madame de Fer is an influential individual amongst the still faithful of the Chantry and amongst the nobility themselves. The two mages might not agree on much on a personal level, their beliefs are just too opposed to each other, but neither can be accused of putting any personal beliefs or biases over the mission at hand and together they’re an effective one-two punch.

Even Dorian Pavus has his moments of use in the trip leading up to the Redoubt, his knowledge of the Grand Game and his own upbringing in the nobility of Tevinter allowing him to offer up useful tips and strategies to the young Herald when it comes to addressing and moving about the Orleasian nobility.

A lot of it is unnecessary though, as Josephine once learned. Alaren seems to come with pre-existing knowledge of the nobility and he seems to have all the poise of an upper-class member of society all on his own even before Vivienne and Dorian get ahold of him. The jokes and the subtle slurs about the ‘barbaric knife-ears’ seem to fall away more and more from the noble’s mouths as the days pass and as they interact more and more with the Inquisition’s Herald.

Solas is impressed, it will build a lot of bridges in the coming days that they may need in their fight against Corypheus or the ‘Elder One’ as he’s calling himself now.

The Templars are not surprisingly either curious or hostile towards the agents of the Inquisition and to the Herald himself when they finally arrive and are let in the main gates. Whispers of them being ‘mage lovers’ come around every corner and Solas almost wants to sigh at how they’ll mutter those words like a curse in one breath but in the next be awed by the mage ‘chosen by Andraste’.

The bounds of human stupidity will never cease to amaze him.

The complete breakdown of negotiations isn’t surprising to Solas either, although he is surprised at how far the Templars have fallen. Solas would have once thought that he couldn’t hold an even lower opinion on the human order but they surprise him as the approach with their skin cracked all over and shards of red lyrium peeking out from it.

The whole event is over relatively quickly, like a bad nightmare and Solas watches as the Templars – or what’s left of them at this location – pledge themselves to the Inquisition itself. Cassandra and Cullen are beyond enraged at the Herald’s choice to undo years of tradition and to bring about the end of the Templar order.

Vivienne is a lot subtler in her scathing remarks to the Herald, but Varric easily drowns her out with his approval of the entire thing.

It’s not surprising considering the dwarf’s own history with the Templar order and with what happened in Kirkwall. Varric has seen this happen first hand before but it was a contained situation, now it’s the worst-case scenario and he’s not happy about it in the slightest. It brings back up the concern of the lack of Grey Wardens as well, but no one, not even Blackwall seems to have any insight into that problem yet.

~+~

The only good thing of the arrival of the Templars to Haven is the ability to march against the Breach. With the help of the mages and the Templars, Solas will be able to contain and help funnel their power through the mark in an easier way for the Herald and help close the main tear in the sky. It won’t deal with the other tears, but it should prevent any more coming into existence.

Alaren’s ability to withstand surprises Solas less and less as he forces each step closer to the breach as the mark lets loose with more power than the mage has ever tried to contain before. The backlash of the breach closing sends them all sprawling and Solas is right there with Cassandra, pushing through the other bodies to find the Herald just kneeling amongst the rubble, before he looks up at them with a tired smile that both of them find themselves matching.

The march back to Haven is so much lighter than it was heading in and Solas finds himself smiling a little as he sees everyone cheering and reveling in the streets now that the main threat has passed.

The warning bells catch them all off guard and Solas rushes to the front gate with everyone else to hear that an army is marching against them of unknown origin. They’re waving no flag, wearing no colors, but they’re here to destroy them.

“I can’t come in unless you open.” A young man’s voice calls through the door and Solas watches as recognition crosses Alaren’s face and he moves forward instantly, flanked by his growing inner circle to open the doors and greet the Fade walker.

“Cole.” Alaren greets, coming over and checking the other over. “What’s going on?”

“The Elder One comes, you know him? He knows you. You’ve taken from him and he’s not happy.” He looks up the hill and points. “There.”

Solas glances up with everyone but it’s too far away to see anything but the massive force coming their way. Corypheus has come then, he’s come for the Herald and for the mark.

“Get everyone inside the church.” Cullen is saying in the background, rallying up the mages and the leftover ex-Templars to fight. “For the Inquisition, for your lives!”

The battle is a failure. The force of corrupted mages and Templars practically crushes them even with their best attempts at preventing it. Haven wasn’t the place for a battle, it’s not a stronghold it’s a graveyard as Corypheus’s forces start to make it over the walls and attack the fleeing townspeople.

“What does he want?” Alaren asks this ‘Cole’ the moment they all make it inside and Cole looks at him.

“He’s after you, he’ll kill everyone else to get you.” Cole replies and Alaren gets that stubborn look on his face.

“If we can turn the last trebuchet towards us.” Solas overhears a part of Cullen’s plan and he turns his attention away from the dying man in Cole’s arms to the ex-Knight Commander.

“To do that, we’d bury Haven.” Alaren is pointing out and Cullen just gets a tired look.

“We’re already dead, at this point it’s just about how spitefully we go out.” He replies and they’re all spared from Dorian’s brief rant about how Cullen thinks like a blood mage when Cole mentions that Roderick knows a way out.

And as always, Alaren choses to stay behind.

“If he wants me, I’m going to make him work for it.” Alaren says softly to them when they fully take in that this very well might be the last time they see him. “I’ll stall for as long as I can, give you time to get over the mountain and through the pass.”

“We’re coming with you.” Cassandra says and Alaren shakes his head.

“No, they need you more than I do.”

“You’ll never make it to the trebuchet and manage to turn it around all by yourself.” Dorian points out. “Some of us are going to have to go with you.”

“Iron Bull and Blackwall, would you-” Alaren starts to say and the two already agree but Varric cuts them off.

“Blackwall can’t go.”

“What?” Blackwall asks.

“If that really is Corypheus out there then we have to get any Grey Wardens as far away from him as possible. He can control them. Trust me on this. I’ll go with you and Tiny.” Varric answers quickly and they’re not really able to argue much with the force at the door.

“Solas, when you get out, freeze the tunnels behind you.” Alaren tells him quietly.

“What about you?”

“If we get out, it won’t be that way. We’ll have to find a different exit. Make sure that Corypheus’s forces can’t follow you out the exit you take.” Blue eyes plead with him. “Please.”

“I will.” Solas promises. “But you better come back.”

“I will do everything in my power to do so.” Alaren assures before he lightly pushes him in the direction of the fleeing townspeople. “Go!”

~+~

It’s a hollow victory, if it can even be called that.

The Iron Bull and Varric manage to find the camp only to say that they got separated from the Herald. That Alaren drew Corypheus’s attention to him while he sent them away.

There’s a heavy silence in the camp that only seems broken by the various arguments that break out between the Herald’s advisors. They’re not sure what to do now. With the fall of Alaren, any hope of closing any of the breaches still left open is gone.

“Don’t count him out.” Varric says over his bowl of food. “He’s a stubborn bastard…if anyone could make it…I think it would be him.” The platitudes fall a little short as the time passes. They’re stuck, unsure what to do or where to go.

The yells at the edge of the camp catch all of their attentions as they stand up and rush over to the sound of people shouting ‘They found him!’

Solas practically pushes forward to see Cullen and Cassandra storming through camp shouting for the healers to come quick as Cullen holds Alaren in his arms.

The young elf looks dead. His skin is bleached to the color of the snow around them, his lips are a purplish blue and his limbs hang with no strength in them. Solas can’t even see if he’s still breathing, there’s no frost around his nose or mouth to indicate it and Solas feels like he’s been punched in the gut. The mark is dim, barely glowing and it’s the only thing that manages to spur him into action.

It’s attached to Alaren’s life force. If it’s still glowing, even the slightest amount – that means he’s still alive.

Solas pushes into the healing tent and immediately starts working on containing the mark long enough for the healers to do their work. Alaren's life is like water held in one’s hands, it just keeps slipping through the cracks faster than they can contain it.

For the first time in a while, Solas reaches deep into the wells of strength that he’s been trying to amass and he unleashes it on the mark. He is Fen’Harel, he is it’s original and its creator and he will not allow it to steal the life of this young man under his care before Solas is ready for it.

The gasp of air that Alaren takes in is like a benediction to all of the healers and the Herald’s team. It’s like they’re all able to breathe again once he starts.

The reaction of the Inquisition is not unexpected as they all sing some Chantry song and stare at the newly awoken Herald like he is their savior in the flesh. Solas watches with curiosity, disbelief and a little bit of amusement as they kneel in front of him and Solas comes over to his side.

“A word?” He asks as he walks past him and he doesn’t turn to see if he’s following, he knows he is. He gives a few well-earned praises to the other elf before he also imparts some truth. “The Orb Corypheus wields? It’s ours.” Alaren takes the information in stride, pointing out that unless they can find a place of shelter for the Inquisition that they’re not going to manage much. “I may have a solution for that.” Solas says with a smile and he guides them through the mountains to the old Skyhold and he has to admit that watching Alaren’s face and seeing his eyes widen in surprise and amazement is worth it in the end. It lets him know that he’s made the right choice to hand the stronghold over.

This is just the beginning of their fight after all. Corypheus needs to be stopped, and to do that they’re going to need to be more than what they were. And that all starts here, at Skyhold under the new Inquisitor.


End file.
